


Take Me Home and Let Me Use You

by babykid528



Series: sub!Zach Est Relationship Poly Pinto 'verse [1]
Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, BDSM, Barebacking, Butt Plugs, Dom!Chris, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Face-Fucking, Held Down, Love, M/M, Polyamory, Praise Kink, Roleplay, Spanking, Subspace, sub!Zach, terms of endearment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-30 23:51:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3956596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babykid528/pseuds/babykid528
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"He came here tonight with intent to find someone to submit to him. He planned on going into The Lounge and getting matched with a nameless, one-time partner. He didn’t plan on meeting someone like Zach."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Me Home and Let Me Use You

**Author's Note:**

> Check out the tags!! This is established relationship, stranger roleplay, with Dom!Chris and sub!Zach, a hint of poly dynamics at play, and ALL THE KINKY FEELS!!! I blame Maroon 5 for this plotbunny! Their song "[Feelings](https://youtu.be/tMxDObWa79o)" gave me a lot of feelings, so I stole the title from their lyrics.
> 
> Super special thanks to Semper for giving this a read, cleaning up my grammar messes, and making me feel super awesome about life before posting this. You are the very best and I adore you forever and ever!!! <3

The club is pounding with the bass of some kind of new wave electronica when Chris gets there. He cringes at the volume, but he knows his ears will adjust once he’s away from the crowd on the dance floor and safely stowed in the back room.

First, though, he needs a drink.

He navigates the throngs of people around the bar expertly, barely even brushing against them as he gets the attention of the bartender and nods to her for his usual. Candy. Her name is Candy – short for Candace – and she always smiles, bright and friendly, whenever Chris catches her eye.

“Hey,” she says, voice barely audible above the music. “Scotch, neat. Welcome back.”

She never calls Chris by his name, just his drink title. Chris can’t help feeling amused by it.

She also never waits for his reply, not that Chris ever offers one. He just slides a healthy tip across the bar to her, the drink already added to his tab, and he either turns to survey the crowd, or he heads straight back to the entrance to The Lounge at the back of the club. It’s membership only, for the kinkier population.

Chris has every intention of making his way back there before the night is through, but he gives the crowd a quick survey first.

He sips from his drink and watches the people around him. They’re a motley crew – some dressed up in nice pants, nice shirts, others in barely anything.

A guy in a business suit, jacket discarded and shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows, is flirting with an androgynous person in leather and eyeliner who is clearly making Mr. Suit And Tie work for their attention even though they (and Chris) both know that they’ll end up leaving with the guy before the night is through.

Something catches Chris’ eye behind them though and he forgets them quickly.

Across the dance floor there is a person, two people actually, in an argument.

Only one of them matters to Chris though.

He’s gorgeous, of the tall, dark, and handsome variety, but different still. Not cookie cutter. Not in the slightest.

The intriguing stranger’s hair flops into his face as his lithe frame moves, appearing more graceful the angrier he gets. His pale skin flushes pink as his shirt rides up in the back while he gesture wildly around him.

The guy with him looks like he could be one of the club’s bouncers: he’s beefy and shorter, but he’s wearing blue instead of the requisite black, and he’s looking far too emotionally involved in the conversation to just be an employee here.

Chris takes one more sip of his drink before leaving it behind on the counter and making his way closer to the pair.

“What part of casual don’t you get?” Chris hears the object of his attentions yell at his companion once Chris gets close enough.

“I just thought, since we’ve done this a few times now–” his companion starts to say, but the other man cuts him off.

“You thought fucking wrong! I made things perfectly clear before this began, I’m involved with someone!” he says.

Chris almost turns around right then, but he’d be lying if he said that didn’t peak his interest further.

“Well, he can’t be so great if you’ve been fucking me for the last three weekends!” Mr. Beefcake throws back, starting to get angry in return. Mr. Beefcake’s chest puffs up then and Chris gets ready to intervene between these two before they start getting physical.

“Fuck you,” Zach growls. “You don’t know anything about him or me.”

“Well, you’re fucking right about that,” Mr. Beefcake replies, deflating. “I don’t know a fucking thing about either of you. Thank God for small favors, I guess.”

He turns to leave then, but turns back once more.

“I hope you’re fucking happy together,” he says, a strange mix of sincerity and insincerity coloring his voice.

Mr. Beefcake doesn’t wait for his former fuck buddy to respond before leaving.

Tall, Dark, and Handsome sags forward a little on his feet, swaying into the tall table he’d been standing beside.

“That looked rough,” Chris says then.

The guy’s head swivels over so fast, Chris worries he’ll get whiplash just from witnessing it. That is, until their eyes meet. The intensity in this stranger’s brown eyes is suddenly boring into him, and it stops Chris’ breath in his lungs.

Chris watches as the guy makes a split second decision and stops himself from cursing Chris out. He sighs instead and runs his hand through his floppy hair.

“It was rough,” he admits.

Chris hums a reply that gets lost in the music and then leans in a little closer and offers his hand in greeting.

“I’m Chris,” he says.

He half expects the guy to roll his eyes and brush him off, but he just blinks for a moment and surprises Chris by taking his hand and shaking it.

“I’m Zach,” he tells him.

“Zach,” Chris says, feeling out the shape of the name in his mouth like it’s the first time he’s ever said it.

“Chris,” Zach says, a soft mocking of Chris’ repetition.

Chris grins at Zach’s cheek.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” Chris says, finally releasing Zach’s hand, “but I saw you arguing with that guy and I wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

Zach gives him a once over before apparently deciding that Chris’ concern isn’t creepy. He lets his head sag forward, gaze averted to the floor, as he sighs again.

“Thank you,” he tells Chris, voice painfully sincere. “I didn’t think he’d get physical, but you can never be sure, right?”

He looks up at Chris through his dark lashes, then, making eye contact again, and a sheepish smile twitches at the corner of his mouth.

Chris’ reaction is visceral: he rocks back on his heels, straightens his back, and holds his head a little higher as he really gives Zach a long, scrutinizing look.

Zach’s face reddens, but he doesn’t break their eye contact.

“You have a partner?” Chris asks.

Zach’s answering nod is firm.

“They’re not into BDSM though, are they?” Chris asks. “That’s why you come to the club?”

Zach shakes his head at that, carefully not speaking.

Chris blinks and grants Zach the permission he needs to speak.

“He’s a Dom,” Zach answers. “My Dom. Actually.”

Chris cocks an eyebrow at that before asking, “He let’s you come here without him though, uncollared? So you can sleep with other men?”

Zach nods.

“He’s…” Zach trails off, blush deepening across his cheeks as he struggles for the words. “He’s really into sharing me. Especially if he’s not there to witness it. He likes when I tell him about the other men while he dominates me.”

Chris lets those words wash over him as he considers what to do next.

He came here tonight with intent to find someone to submit to him. He planned on going into The Lounge and getting matched with a nameless, one-time partner. He didn’t plan on meeting someone like Zach.

He licks his lips and gives Zach a sweeping look before deciding that maybe trying to plan everything is fucking overrated.

“Your Dom likes to hear how other men fucked you,” he says. “What about other men dominating you?”

Zach takes a deep, shuddering breath and releases it in a quick exhale.

His pupils are wide, the brown of his eyes a thin band around the black. He looks as if his legs might give out before he can say anything else, but he somehow manages to respond.

“He doesn’t usually like other people dominating me, but for you he’d absolutely make an exception.”

Chris stares at him a little while longer, letting the tension build between them, before he nods.

“Good,” he says. “Let’s go then.”

Zach looks relieved and confused in equal measure when Chris ushers him toward the club’s exit and not toward The Lounge.

“Where are we going?” he asks.

“My place,” Chris tells him, pressing his palm against the small of Zach’s back as he steers him through the crowd.

“You don’t want to go to The Lounge?” Zach asks.

The reedy tone to his voice stops Chris in his tracks. He maneuvers them both out of the way and looks into Zach’s face, searches his eyes.

“Would you rather go to The Lounge?” He asks. “Would that make you more comfortable?”

Zach blinks a few times, trying to avert his eyes, but Chris holds his chin firmly between his thumb and forefinger.

“Zach, talk to me,” he says.

Zach’s eyes snap back to Chris’ at the gentle tone of that command.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Chris tells him, caressing Zach’s chin with his thumb.

Zach shakes his head as much as he can with Chris still holding on to him.

“I’m not. You’re not making me uncomfortable,” he swears. “I just thought. I assumed you’d want to do this publicly. Have an audience. I’m just trying to reorient myself to the idea of having you to myself tonight.”

Chris gives Zach a small smile and brushes the pad of his thumb across his lower lip.

“I’m not feeling much like sharing you tonight,” Chris tells him, brushing his knuckles across Zach’s chin as he removes his hand.

Zach takes a few shaky breaths before nodding, indicating he’s ready to go. Chris stands up a little straighter and begins leading them through the crowd again.

They take a pit stop at the bar so Chris can settle his tab with Candy. (She gives them a little wink and Chris grins at the way Zach blushes at her.) Then Chris leads Zach outside and over to his car.

“Did you drive yourself here tonight?” he asks.

Zach shakes his head and says, “No, I took a car service.”

“Okay, good,” Chris tells him as he opens the passenger door for him.

Zach ducks his head, a pleased little smile blossoming on his face, and he takes his seat.

Chris drives the speed limit the whole way home, carefully following all traffic laws, like he’s in no rush whatsoever. He’s really _not_ in a rush though. Sure, he’s eager to get Zach home and on his knees, but he’s always been a patient person. He actually enjoys the wait, the way it lets this thing between them build.

By the time they reach his house, though, Zach is practically twitching.

Chris pulls into his gated driveway and parks the car. When he takes the key from the ignition he doesn’t move.

“Do you need to take a minute to compose yourself?” he asks Zach, looking forward at the front door of his home. He can see Zach attempting to still himself in his peripheral vision.

“Maybe?” Zach asks in answer.

Chris turns to look at him then.

“I’ll go open the front door and give you some time alone,” Chris tells him. “You have five minutes. Five minutes and then I’m calling this off.”

Zach looks at him, searches Chris’ face for something, and agrees.

Chris watches him a moment and then gets out of the car.

Before he shuts the door, though, he leans back down to look at Zach again.

“When you come inside, I expect you to strip and get down on your knees for me,” he instructs. “There’s a chair just inside the door where you can leave your shoes and folded clothes.”

He straightens back up and leaves without giving Zach a chance to respond.

Chris notes the time on his phone as he unlocks the front door and enters the house. He’s just making his way to the living room, turning on the lights, when he hears Zach enter the foyer and shut the door. Chris checks his phone again and smiles.

_Three minutes._

He puts his phone off to the side and sits on the couch, legs spread, as he waits. He doesn’t wait long.

Zach comes crawling on his hands and knees into the living room, completely nude, and takes his place at Chris’ feet, eyes downcast.

Chris taps him under the chin with the tip of his finger to get him too look up and see the pleased grin on his face.

“That was some initiative you took there,” Chris tells him.

A small smile tugs at the corners of Zach’s mouth at the praise.

Chris buries his fingers in Zach’s hair, humming a little under his breath. He cards them through the dark strands a few times before getting a good grip and tugging hard, jerking Zach’s head to the side. Making Zach gasp.

“You’re really good at this,” Chris says, voice dripping with appreciation.

“I was trained well,” Zach replies.

Chris tightens his grip on Zach’s hair and narrows his eyes, suddenly very serious.

“Not well enough if you thought I just gave you permission to speak,” he tells Zach.

Zach’s only reply is a furious pink blush that blooms across his chest, up his neck, and across his cheeks.

Chris reaches out with his free hand and brushes his fingers across Zach’s cheek to feel the heat that accompanies the color.

“I guess you need a little correcting,” Chris mumbles to himself, loud enough for Zach to hear. “We’ll get to that in a bit though.”

He loosens his hold on Zach’s head but doesn’t remove his hand from Zach’s hair, and Zach lets out a small, lost sound.

“You’ll get more pain soon, baby,” Chris promises, pleased when the term of endearment earns him a deeper flush of red across Zach’s skin. “But there are things I need you to do first.”

Chris lets silence fall for a moment, pleased when Zach doesn’t attempt to fill the quiet.

“Good boy,” Chris tells him, removing his hand from his hair.

Zach doesn’t chase the touch and Chris smiles as he reaches over to the side table and takes out some lube.

He holds it out for Zach and watches him take it, tentatively.

“I want you to slick and stretch your ass while I watch you,” Chris instructs. “And then I’m going to fill you with lube and plug you up tight.”

A shimmer of some strange expression passes over Zach’s face, but it’s gone as quickly as it appears.

“Are we good?” Chris asks.

Zach nods.

“You can speak, Zach,” Chris tells him, voice gentle.

“Yeah,” Zach answers. “We’re good. Everything’s good.”

“You remember the word to tap out?” Chris asks.

“Yeah,” Zach says.

Chris nods, satisfied, before hardening his demeanor again.

“Do you have a safe word you’d like to use?” He asks.

Zach shakes himself a little before settling back into the headspace he’d been in before their little aside.

“Lemonade?” Zach offers the word in the form of a question.

Chris nods, approving.

“Lemonade it is,” he says. “If you want to stop anything for any reason, anything we’re doing here in this scene, you just say the word and we’ll change things up. Reassess.”

Zach knows the drill. Chris knows he knows it. But he still lays everything out, makes sure he says the proper rules, as a reassurance. A reassurance that Zach has as much power as he’s relinquishing, if not more.

Zach smiles, eyes grateful.

“Okay,” Chris says, satisfied with those ground rules in place. He leans back into the couch then, hands rubbing his own thighs, warming them through his jeans. “Get to work then.”

Zach doesn’t hesitate this time to do as he’s been ordered.

He shifts his knees further apart on the hardwood floor and reaches back to rub dry fingers over his hole. He arches his back just enough to give himself better contact and Chris watches his face change as he gasps. Zach’s cock, already halfway to hard from the scene, twitches as it grows harder.

Zach straightens himself up, leaving his hole alone, as he slicks his fingers with lube.

“Start with just one,” Chris instructs.

Zach looks disappointed, but he nods.

“And don’t even think about touching your cock,” Chris warns. “Your free hand belongs on your thigh or on the floor for balance, if you need it.”

Zach plants his palm firmly on his thigh and presses his fingers into his skin as he arches his back again to rub his hole with his slick fingers.

Chris watches the way Zach bends just a little further back, mouth open on a soft whine, and he knows he’s pressed his finger inside himself. He revels in the way Zach’s whole body shakes as he starts moving his finger in and out, fucking himself, panting.

“It’s not enough, is it?” Chris asks.

Zach looks at him, eyes filled with need, and he shakes his head. Just once. A quick little sideways jerk.

Chris hums and continues watching Zach struggle to prep himself with one finger for a few more moments before telling him, “Get more lube. You can add a second finger now.”

When Zach straightens again, finger leaving his hole, he groans. Chris can’t tell if it’s a mournful sound over feeling suddenly empty or a response to the twitch of his previously straining abs. Probably both. Either way, Zach makes quick work of lubing his fingers and getting them both inside himself again.

He rocks back against them, and he squeezes his eyes shut tight, throwing his head back, releasing a long, whining moan.

Chris leans forward and reaches out to run his fingers across Zach’s flexing abs. The sudden contact, feather light, startles Zach. He snaps his attention back to Chris, eyes wide, as he pants for air and shakes, on the verge of crashing backward.

Chris moves even closer, until he’s sitting on the edge of the couch, and he wraps his arm around Zach’s back, bracing him upright with his palm spread wide between Zach’s shoulders.

“I’ve got you,” Chris promises, looking down at Zach, faces close.

Zach nods, breathless and panting, before closing his eyes again and tilting his head back.

His chin is so close to Chris’ mouth, it’s difficult resisting the temptation to bite, but Chris is nothing if not controlled. He just holds Zach up as Zach continues to fuck himself on his own fingers.

“You can add a third finger,” Chris says, voice just as calm as when they begun.

He’s not sure if the tone or the instruction makes Zach shiver more, but the trembling is enough to set Chris’ arm shaking too.

“That’s it,” Chris says, voice full of encouragement, as Zach grunts and bears down, pressing three fingers into himself now.

Zach’s covered in a thin film of sweat, his hair beginning to stick to his face, when Chris tells him he can stop.

“Such a good boy, Zach,” Chris praises him while helping him up into a more natural kneeling position. “I bet those knees are hurting on that floor.”

Zach lets out a strangled, desperate kind of noise, cock hard and leaking and ass once again empty.

Chris gives him a few seconds to calm down before helping him up off his knees, legs tight. Chris stands with him and turns them around, pushing Zach toward the couch.

“Lay down on your stomach,” he says. “Let your legs stretch out.”

Zach does as instructed and groans as his muscles stretch and flex after being in one position for so long.

Chris pushes one of the couch pillows under Zach’s head, petting Zach’s damp hair, then returns to the table he got the lube from and retrieves a thick silicone toy from the drawer.

“I’m going to finger you a little more myself,” Chris tells Zach. “Then I’m going to fill you with lube and plug you up tight. Keep you ready for me when I want you later.”

Zach’s voice is wrecked as he gasps out a needy, “Chris, please.”

Chris shushes him gently as he pulls the coffee table over to sit on. He slicks his own fingers quickly and buries two of them deep in Zach’s ass. He fucks Zach long and slow, finding his prostate quickly, making sure to curl his fingers, just slightly, as he draws them out.

Zach sobs into the pillow, short huffs of half-yelps, curling fists into the couch when Chris adds a third finger.

“You did such a good job prepping yourself, baby,” Chris assures him, petting his lower back with his free hand. “You’re taking my fingers so well.”

“More,” Zach begs.

“Shhh,” Chris tells him. “I know you want more. If you continue to be good, you’ll get my cock later. For now, I’m going to get you good and wet and fill you with that plug.”

Chris removes his fingers, grinning as Zach tries to thrust back against them and keep them inside. He finds the lube again and uncaps the bottle. He lines it up with Zach’s slick opening and squeezes it, filling him with the cool gel, listening to Zach’s stuttered gasping.

Zach writhes at the cold, but Chris just holds him still and lines the plug up with his dripping hole and slowly pushes it in, twisting slightly.

“That’s it. You’re okay,” Chris soothes. “You’re doing beautifully, baby. So good for me.”

When the plug is fully inside and the flat base is seated flush to Zach’s entrance, Chris begins gently massaging his thigh muscles, whispering soft praises, until Zach’s breathing evens out.

“You feeling okay?” Chris asks.

“Yes,” Zach sighs.

“Good,” Chris says. “It’s time we got around to that ‘little correcting’ now.”

Zach shifts on the couch at Chris’ words, but he stills quickly.

“I promised you more pain later,” Chris tells him, dragging his hand up from Zach’s thigh to his ass, kneading the cheek a little. “I keep my promises.”

Chris removes his hands from Zach’s body and raises his right one, flexing his fingers wide. He swings it downward and swats Zach’s left ass cheek. The slap gets most of its force from gravity, but if Zach’s stuttered hiss is any indication, it still stings.

Chris doesn’t hesitate before delivering the second slap, to Zach’s right cheek. He keeps landing slaps, putting more force behind each one, alternating cheeks, until he loses count.

Zach gasps and whines at each hit, arches into the touch as much as he jerks from it. Between the sting of the contact and the way the plug must be moving inside of him as he is hit and as he squirms, Chris is impressed that Zach’s not shouting yet.

When his ass is bright pink and hot to the touch, Chris stops spanking and starts massaging. He rubs his palm across the abused skin, magnifying the burn, then digs his fingers into the flesh, kneading the muscle beneath.

“Chris,” Zach whimpers his name, clutching at the couch, jerking his hips against the fabric beneath him while struggling to be good and not move them.

“Yes, Zach?” Chris asks, absently rubbing Zach’s ass now.

“Please,” Zach blurts, voice thick with need.

“Please what?” Chris asks, breath ghosting across Zach’s skin. He’s leaned forward so he can press his mouth to it.

At the first open-mouthed kiss, Zach’s breath catches. Chris hums at the sound and darts his tongue out to both taste and soothe Zach’s sensitive skin.

“Please let me come,” Zach shouts.

Chris laughs and leans back, running his thumb over the spit-slick spot he just left, and he angles himself to lean in again by Zach’s arm now.

“You think you deserve to come tonight?” he asks.

“Fuck, please?” Zach ask, voice both pathetic and delectable at the same time.

Chris bites his shoulder, a sharp, quick snap of teeth, before sitting upright again.

“We’ll see if you earn the right,” Chris tells him. “I’m not convinced you deserve it yet.”

Zach chokes back something that sounds like an obscenity and Chris grins.

“I’m going to have to see how good your mouth is,” Chris says, “before I even entertain the idea of touching your cock.”

Zach looks at Chris then, face a mask of frustration and hunger.

“I’m going to need you on your knees again,” Chris tells him.

He brushes his fingers across Zach’s bicep, up to the spot he bit, before giving Zach a little nudge.

“Come on,” he urges. “I’ll give you a pillow this time.”

Chris retrieves a large foam pillow from beside the end table while Zach pushes up off the couch. He pushes the coffee table back, out of the way again, and drops the pillow on the floor where he wants Zach, and he waits for him to kneel. He takes stock of Zach’s flushed, desperate appearance. His cock is an angry shade of red, almost-purple, now, and it’s leaked all over the couch cushion where it was trapped.

Chris strokes his fingers through Zach’s hair once he’s in the proper kneeling position again, pleased at the way Zach leans toward him at the touch.

He stops touching Zach then though and steps around him so he can sprawl out in a seated position on the couch, legs spread wide. He’s still in the clothes he wore to the club: dark blue henley, unbuttoned at the top; black jeans; black shoes.

Zach’s contrasting nudity as soon as they got home had him hard enough. The way Zach’s been so good, so perfectly submissive, has him absolutely straining against his jeans now. Where Zach is beside himself with his own arousal, though, Chris is completely composed with his. There’s this heady rush of adrenaline, this kind of power high, that he gets when he Dominates. It starts as soon as Zach submits and builds as the scene continues. It’ll crest and break eventually, like the longest building wave, but the build up is the best part as far as Chris is concerned.

“I want you to take my cock out,” he tells Zach. “And then I want you to suck it like it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”

“With pleasure.” Zach rushes the words out on an exhale before closing in on Chris’ jeans and revealing his erection.

He’s barely got Chris’ full length out of his pants before he wraps his mouth around the head.

“Whoa there,” Chris yelps as the zipper drags against his sensitive skin. “Be careful or I’ll end this right now.”

Zach pulls off him with a wet pop and gasps a litany of “ _sorry, sorry, sorry_ ” before slurping the head back into his mouth and wrapping his hand around the shaft.

When Zach presses his tongue along the bottom of Chris’ cock, stroking the spot where the crown connects with the shaft, Chris shoves his hands into Zach’s hair and holds on tight. Zach moans in response, sending shivers through Chris’ whole body.

“Deeper,” Chris urges, his tone fraying at the edges just enough to be noticeable.

Zach looks up at him through lashes thick and dark and holds his gaze while taking Chris deeper into his mouth. Chris tugs his hair tighter, but doesn’t hold him down.

“You can pull back whenever you need to,” Chris tells him. “Just touch my wrist and I’ll let go.”

Zach makes a short, huff of sound in reply. Chris takes it as understanding and pulls Zach forward a little, pushing his cock deeper in his mouth.

He pushes Zach back a little before pulling him forward again, even deeper this time.

Chris does it a few more times, breathing picking up speed, until he hits the back of Zach’s throat.

He looks down at him, amazed that Zach isn’t gagging, and pets Zach’s hair a little before gripping it tight again.

“You’re the best,” Chris tells him. “The best mouth I’ve ever had.”

It’s more than he should be admitting when Zach is supposed to be a stranger, but the words slip out and Chris can’t be bothered to spin them so they make sense in their scene.

Zach just snorts a little in response before swallowing around Chris’ cock, pulling him in even deeper. Zach’s throat is tight, squeezing the head of Chris’ cock in a way that is dangerous. Dangerous, because he’s going to come if Zach keeps this up.

“Okay,” Chris gasps, gently pushing Zach back a little. “Enough. That’s enough.”

Zach eases off Chris slowly, coughing a little once he can breathe through his mouth again.

“I’m good,” he assures Chris before Chris can ask.

Chris runs his fingers across Zach’s face and offers a quick smile before tapping Zach’s chin and telling him to stand again.

It’s more of an effort for the both of them to stand than either wants to let on. Once they’re both on their feet though, Chris orders Zach back down on the couch.

“I want you face down with your ass up for me,” he says.

When Zach’s in place, Chris runs his hand over Zach’s ass, dipping his fingers between the cheeks to touch the base of the plug, making Zach tremble.

“I’m gonna take this out now, baby,” Chris tells him. “I’m gonna give you my cock finally.”

“Yes please,” Zach begs, pressing his ass back into Chris’ hand.

Chris gives it a quick swat, more playful than reprimanding, before kicking off his shoes, shedding his pants, and pulling off his shirt. His hard cock bounces as he removes his clothes and Chris can’t help but remember how good it felt trapped in Zach’s mouth minutes ago.

He doesn’t fold his clothes, even though he made Zach fold his. He just throws them on the coffee table and promises himself he’ll clean them up later. He’s got more important things to do and his own patience and control are wearing thin.

He climbs on the couch, between Zach’s spread knees, and plasters himself against Zach’s back, supporting most of his weight on his arms at Zach’s sides.

He licks a strip up between Zach’s shoulder blades before biting at the nape of Zach’s neck.

“You are the best boy,” Chris whispers against Zach’s skin, closing his eyes. He revels in the way those words make Zach come undone. Far more than any spanking or fingering or face fucking.

“The very best boy,” he breathes, licking and kissing Zach’s back again.

“Chris,” Zach yelps in reply. “Please, Chris!”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Chris chants, reaching down between Zach’s spread ass cheeks, taking hold of the base of the plug.

He gives it a little twist, basks in the whine and growl that elicits from Zach.

“I’m gonna remove the plug, baby,” he tells him.

He can feel Zach nodding even though he can’t see it, and he takes his time, leaving one more lingering, wet kiss on Zach’s back before opening his eyes again and getting back to business.

He straightens his back so he’s kneeling upright again, puts the hand that’s not on the plug on Zach’s hip, and he tells Zach to bear down a little so the plug comes out easier. It’s so lubed, it shouldn’t really be a problem, but Zach is tense around it, wound tight with his need for release. Bearing down will only make things easier, and they both know it. Zach is easy about following instructions in this state anyway – he’s eager to please Chris normally, he’s only more eager in this state of submission.

The plug slides slowly as Chris and Zach work together, and when it’s gone, Zach let’s out a loud sob of a sound at the loss. His hole is positively dripping with the lube he filled him with. Chris gathers up the drops with his fingers and pushes them deep inside Zach, cock getting harder with each mewling cry Zach makes.

He removes his fingers after just a few strokes and wraps them around his own cock.

“You’re so wet, baby,” Chris tells him. “Your ass is practically begging for my cock. I see your hole twitching, hungry. I’m going to fill it right up, I promise.”

“Please, Chris,” Zach begs. He’s begged a lot over the course of the night. That thought fills Chris with a sudden swell of pride and pleasure as he lines himself up and slides his cock slowly into Zach.

“Fuck, Zach,” he gasps. The process of feeding his cock into Zach’s hole, of stuffing Zach full, feels like it takes ages. It’s an easy slide in, with Zach eager to take things faster, but Chris likes to draw it out. Always draws it out.

“You are my best, my very best,” Chris rambles as his hips finally meet Zach’s, cock fully sheathed.

He’s as incoherent as he let’s himself get when he’s in charge like tonight, and it takes him a few moments, buried deep and still, for him to regain some of his outward calm.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard that you see stars, baby,” Chris promises once he’s more composed.

Zach shivers and whines at the promise and the renewed composure.

Chris leans forward, altering the angle of himself inside Zach as he grips Zach’s thigh and reaches, with his other hand, to push down on Zach’s back where he last kissed him.

“I’m going to fuck you into this couch,” he promises, voice even more composed now. “I’m going to press your face into the cushions while I do it. And if you even so much as try to reach for your own cock during, or if you can’t keep yourself from coming until I give you express permission, you can be damn sure you won’t be coming for the rest of the week, you understand?”

Zach nods furiously into the couch, frantic words already muffled by the cushions.

Chris shifts his hips so he can pull back out of Zach, holding Zach’s hip so he can’t shift back and chase after Chris’ retreating cock. It’s a slow glide, as slow as the first stroke in was, and Zach lets out this airy-sounding moan that goes straight to Chris’ already very hard cock.

He slides back in faster, leaning on Zach’s back so he feels his weight on top of him, pinning him down. Zach flexes his fingers, spreads them wide and then grips them tight into the couch cushion on either side of his head.

“You are so fucking gorgeous, Zachary,” Chris tells him.

The full body tremble Zach’s full name elicits is always a marvel to Chris.

“That’s it, baby,” Chris says, voice oddly soothing. “I’ve got you. You can fall.”

Chris knows there’s this thin barrier between Zach and the freedom of subspace, whenever they scene, that can only ever be demolished by him. Chris has to say the word, give his permission, and then Zach can move past that point and sink into it, finally lose himself.

As soon as he gives the go ahead, Chris can feel the shift as Zach falls. Like Zach is suddenly less present but more present all at once. Like he’s buoying them both up into some kind of higher plane and Chris’ only job is to make sure he stays there as long as possible.

“I’ve got you,” he gasps again, overwhelmed by the head rush that always accompanies Zach’s fall. _He did this for him. He got him to this point._

If he thinks about it too much, he’ll come before he gets the chance to really fuck Zach the way he needs, and he certainly can’t let that happen. He takes one more deep, gasping breath while sliding his cock back out. He squeezes Zach’s hip tight when he almost pulls out completely, and then he fucks hard and fast back into him, holding him down a little rougher than before.

That’s the beginning of the end. It always is for Chris.

Something shifts inside him, that careful control slipping, and he curls himself more possessively over Zach and sets up a brutal rhythm, fucking Zach harder with every subsequent thrust.

Zach’s rushed, panting breathing, muted by the couch, sounds like music to Chris’ ears as he slaps his hips against Zach’s ass with each forward thrust.

“You’re everything, baby,” Chris admits in a fevered rush of words, breath becoming more labored as his climax nears. “Always so fucking perfect for me, my very best boy.”

The whine Zach releases at that praise is what sends Chris over the edge. His thrusts stutter to a halt as he lets out a sharp string of curses and comes deep inside of Zach. His fingers grip bruises into Zach’s hip and press angry red marks into Zach’s back, and Zach just keeps whining, like the needy, desperate sounds are some kind of gracious prayer.

“Fuck, Zach.” Chris’ own voice sounds far more like a whine than he means it to when he spills the last of his come and releases his hold on Zach’s hip so he can lean back down on him, chest molded to back, and press another open-mouthed kiss to Zach’s sweaty skin He doesn’t remove his cock from Zach’s ass. He just shifts a little closer, keeping it sheathed as it twitches in the aftershocks of his orgasm.

“Chris.” Zach says his name, and it sounds so far away.

Chris presses another kiss to Zach’s back, this one more controlled than the last, and he pets his fingers across Zach’s side before reaching beneath him to grab hold of Zach’s poor, neglected cock. It only takes a few tight jerks to take Zach to the edge.

He won’t come though. No matter how badly he may want to, may need to. Not without Chris’ verbal permission first.

“You are so fucking good, my baby,” Chris says, licking and kissing his way across Zach’s shoulders. “So fucking well behaved for me. Always.”

Zach’s arms tense as he grips the couch tighter in his fists.

“Come for me, Zachary,” Chris tells him.

The response is instant. Zach lets out a keening wail of a sound as he shoots hard, covering the couch and Chris’ fingers with his come. Chris jerks his cock throughout, milking him, as he continues to mouth and lick Zach’s hot skin.

“That’s my best boy,” Chris tells him, leaning up a little further, just enough to plant a messy kiss at the nape of Zach’s neck, right where his sweat-damp hair stops.

They stay pressed together, breathing evening out, for a little while before Chris musters up the strength to get up. His soft cock slides out of Zach’s ass as he shifts backward, lifting his weight back off of Zach’s back, and they both groan.

“I’ll be right back,” Chris promises, rubbing his fingers in quick circles across Zach’s lower back before getting to his feet and stumbling down the hall.

He returns with a couple of warm, damp towels to find Zach in the same position he left him.

Chris drops the clothes onto the coffee table, on top of his shirt, and leans over, straightening Zach’s bended knees and stretching his legs out across the couch.

“You’re muscles are so tight, sweetheart,” Chris says, concerned, as he begins massaging Zach’s right leg from the foot up to his ass, then his left leg from his ass down to his foot.

Zach grunts and groans as the knots are worked smooth by Chris’ capable, loving hands.

Once his legs are dealt with, Chris picks up one of the cooling towels and wipes Zach’s ass clean, careful not to hurt the sore hole and still stinging cheeks. They have a salve in the bathroom for stinging spanks and bruises. Chris doesn’t think it’s necessary this time, but he can always apply a little later if the sheets chafe too badly.

Once Zach’s cleaned up of lube and Chris’ come on his backside, Chris discards the towel and works on massaging up Zach’s back, across his shoulders and then down each of his arms. They’ve been bent just as long as Zach’s knees were, and his fingers are feel locked and stiff from all the gripping they did throughout the night as Chris works feeling back into them too.

Chris coos soft words of assurance while Zach whines at the pain, and by the time Chris shifts Zach up into a seated position so he can clean his front, Zach is almost completely lucid again.

Chris smiles, chest filling with adoration and love, when Zach levels a focused, clear look at him for the first time in what feels like days. He reaches out a hand and cups Zach’s jaw, rubbing his thumb across his stubbled cheek, as he cleans up Zach’s cock and abs with the second towel.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says. “Nice to have you back.”

Zach manages to muster up a return grin before he catches sight of the mess on the couch.

“Fuck,” he groans, voice gravelly. Chris finds the bottle of water he left on the table before they went to the club and passes it to him. Zach shoots him a thankful look as he drinks from it.

“We ruined the damn couch,” he says, much to Chris’ amusement.

“It’s fine,” Chris assures him. “I wanted to get a new one anyway.”

“Oh, so this was all some elaborate plan to get me to agree to buying a new couch?” Zach asks, eyes twinkling.

Chris laughs. “Sure. I dragged you out to that club you love going to and roleplayed we were strangers all so I could get a new couch.”

Zach can’t help joining in his laughter at the ludicrousness of the entire situation.

“I can’t believe we actually went through with this,” Zach tells him.

Chris shrugs, “You’ve wanted to do this for ages, baby. I always intended on giving it a shot at some point. Now seemed as good a time as any.”

Zach hums a happy sound in response, grinning ear-to-ear.

“I guess it was just lucky that guy I was fucking at the club last week happened to be there when we arrived,” Zach says. “Picking a fight made the scene all the more real.”

“Yeah, it’s a good thing your partner and Dom really does like to hear about you fucking other men when you scene,” Chris says, voice thick with amusement.

Zach leans toward Chris a little then. Chris recognizes it as one of Zach’s post-scene tells, the one that means he needs skin-to-skin cuddle contact ASAP, but he doesn’t feel ready to beg for anything this soon after the scene has ended.

“Come on,” Chris tells him, taking his hand in his and standing back up. “Let’s get you into bed.”

It’s a slow process, getting Zach steady again on his feet. It’s certainly a joint effort getting him down the hall and into their bed.

Chris leans over him once he’s laid out on his back and places a firm kiss over Zach’s heart.

“I’m just gonna let the dogs out of their crates and into the backyard to pee quick,” he promises. “I’ll be right back.”

He doesn’t bother putting anything on, just lets the dogs out and re-crates them in the nude. It’s a little chilly, but that just motivates him to move quicker so he can get back to the bedroom and cuddled up to Zach.

Zach is buried under a mound of blankets when Chris returns. He doesn’t make a sound, though Chris knows he’s not yet sleeping. He stays quiet and still until Chris is beneath the blankets with him, pressing his cold feet against Zach’s warm ones, earning a yelp and a swat and a fit of laughter that they share in. Chris pulls Zach close then, legs tangled, chest-to-chest, and he nuzzles their faces close together on the same pillow.

They stare at one another, almost too close to really see one another with any focus, and Chris pets whatever parts of Zach his hands can reach.

“I love you,” he whispers, like it’s some kind of secret between them. “So much.”

Zach’s inhale is stuttered as he visibly fights back a wave of emotional overload, eyes shining wet and voice thick as he says, “I love you too. So much.”

Chris leans forward at the first sign of a lip tremble and kisses Zach deeply.

“You’re the very best of me,” he whispers into Zach’s mouth as the kiss ends.

His chest feels tight when Zach leans in then, reclaiming his lips in another kiss, one that’s far more desperate than their last one.

Chris kisses him back just as desperately and holds him tighter until Zach is ready to stop.

Based on previous experience after a scene, it’ll be some time before Zach can relax enough to sleep. That’s fine with Chris though. They could both use a little reassurance, a little reminder, after all the pretend tonight, that there’s more than a little love between them.


End file.
